


Reminiscence

by angel_authoress



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Memory Loss, Twelve uses the name John Smith, but the end pairing is whouffaldi, danny/clara for most of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7395487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_authoress/pseuds/angel_authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a nasty fall during the eleventh doctor's regeneration, Clara loses all memories of her adventures with the Doctor. A newly regenerated Doctor must try to get Clara Oswald to regain her memories, but it's not going to be easy with Clara's boyfriend Danny Pink around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first whouffaldi fic! ^^
> 
> So, this fic should get updated regularly because it's already finished. I will post a new chapter every day, so it should be completely finished by the end of the week.
> 
> Hopefully you all enjoy! This is a pairing I've never written before.

When she was a child, there was almost nothing she dreaded more than writing essays. Her English teacher at the time, a grouchy old woman with no sense of humor, would assign and time all of them, so Clara can recall absolutely abhorring those damned essays. It was rare for her to ever get a good grade on them. She never thought that now, as an English teacher, she would hate grading essays even more than writing them. And who would’ve thought that despite her hatred of her own English teacher that made writing essays miserable, she would actually end up becoming a teacher? Grading _was_ a stressful process; it sounded easy but when you get right down to it, it’s far more complicated than it looks. She was forced to grade all essays by the rubric, and that meant she couldn’t get away with just skimming through them. So every night she would sit down at her desk with a cup of coffee (it was usually several cups of coffee; she would need lots of caffeine to get through this), a red pen in hand as she read through the large stacks of papers that sat on her desk.

She loves her job, she really does. She loves the children and she loves working with them. But sometimes, she would read over their work and… it gave her a headache to have to read through such poorly written responses. It baffled her that middle school students couldn’t form a properly written answer to a question. It made her wonder if perhaps she wasn’t doing her job correctly. But those were _basic_ things that they should have learned in primary school! 

Admittedly, she always hated giving her students poor grades. Even if the student didn’t work hard or refused to put in any effort, in the end she always felt awful for giving them a bad grade. She remembered how disappointed she would get when she brought home a bad grade. It would pretty much ruin her mood for the day. That was why she always tried to be generous when grading assignments. She was beginning to think that she was being _too_ generous.

After getting through a particularly bad essay, she tossed it in the finished pile and downed the last of her coffee, cursing when she remembered that she was out of coffee grinds. Looking over at her unfinished stack, she realized that she had only made it about halfway through it, and grades had to be in by the end of the week (and of course, it was Wednesday). Groaning, Clara rubbed at her eyes, feeling an impending headache forming just beneath them.

After promptly deciding that she needed a break, Clara stumbled out of her chair and into the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. It may not give her the energy boost she needs, but she needed something other than caffeine. It seemed that all the energy she previously had was dying out, and she was dangerously close to crashing completely. She knew she could not afford that, especially since there was so much more work to be done before Friday.

She downs half the bottle in 20 seconds, and she smirks a bit, impressed with herself, before then returning to her desk and to the tedious task of grading essays.

About two hours pass and Clara is almost finished, about ten more to go, when the door suddenly opens and she hears a familiar voice.

“Clara, are you home?”

Clara sighs with relief. Danny! The perfect distraction.

“Yeah, I’m in here!”

Danny strides into her room, smiling gently when he sees her working diligently. “I see you’ve got your hands full. Maybe I can come back another time?”

“Oh no, its fine, I’m almost done anyway. What did you come over for? Not that you’re not welcome or anything, but usually I’m the one visiting you-“

He interrupts her rambling with a chuckle. “I just thought I’d come see you for a change. Is that alright?”

Smiling gently, she nods. “Yeah, that’s fine. I didn’t know you were coming though, so I didn’t make anything. Um… oh! I can make a soufflé!”

“Thanks but no thanks, we’ll just order a pizza or something. No offense, Clara, but your soufflés are awful.”

Clara frowns. “They are not! They just need a little bit of improvement, that’s all!”

Smiling, Danny takes a seat on the couch and pulls out his phone. “A lot of improvement is more like it. Now where do you want to order pizza from?”

* * *

 

He only realizes that his regeneration process isn’t one hundred percent complete when his legs give out, and he falls right onto the floor of the TARDIS.

He never knew for certain when the process was complete; he always seemed to be moving around when he shouldn’t be. Regeneration was a tricky thing; it could take ten seconds or ten days. Luckily it had never taken _that_ long, but with regeneration everything is different.

This regeneration is especially different. He’s no longer got the face of a young man, and a part of him groans internally; he hadn’t wanted to become _old._ But, he was thankful that he had regenerated properly. Every body part was in the right place and seemed to be functioning, even if they weren’t quite finished forming. He was just _waiting_ for when he would regenerate with no head or something. Clara would throw a fit.

Oh.

_Clara._

He remembers having a brief conversation with her before he regenerated. He remembers the tears in her eyes as she begged him not to change. And oh, how he wished he wouldn’t have. He wishes he could have kept that face for her.

But where was she _now?_ He knows that he’s regenerated and she probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to see an old man in place of her bow tie Doctor, but it was still him. She would definitely understand; she always did. Clara was clever like that; she possessed the ability to always understand.

Once he gets back on his feet, he steps outside the TARDIS doors, and sets out on his mission to find Clara Oswald. The day was somewhat dreary and a bit chilly too. A part of him figured that, on the day he returns to Clara, the sun would be out and it would be gorgeous outside. Then again, he’s never been a fan of too much sunlight. It always made it too hot-

He ceases his internal rambling, choosing to focus on instead on what exactly he should say to Clara once he found her. He knew exactly where she lived and it would be easy for him to park the TARDIS right in her bedroom. But he didn’t want to surprise her too much; he figured showing up on her doorstep with a new face would be enough of a surprise. As he walked along the streets of London, he wondered if perhaps he should get her flowers to help ease her shock. Or just something to say “sorry I regenerated and left you here, but I’ve returned now!” He wasn’t even certain that she would forgive him or bother traveling with him again. She would understand, no doubt about it, but understanding and forgiveness were two very different things. Who knows? She might have moved on by now. His chest clenches painfully at the thought.

After reaching her apartment complex, he makes his way up the stairs and down the hall to her door. Drawing in a deep breath, he raises his fist and raps on the door. There’s no noise coming from inside, and no one answers the first time he knocks. He knocks a second and a third time, and again, nothing.

Fear suddenly overtakes him. What if she was unconscious? What if she was being held captive? Or worse, what if she was-

He’s about to pull out his sonic screwdriver when all the sudden he hears an elderly woman’s shrill voice calling out to him.

“Who are _you?_ ” she asks, placing emphasis on the word “you”.

The Doctor looks up and meets the woman's sharp eyes. “I’m a friend of the person that lives in this apartment. Do you know her?”

“Oh, you mean Clara? Yes, I’m her neighbor."

“Where has she gone?”

The woman blinks in confusion, and then narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. “Well, if you were her _friend_ then _surely_ you’d know that she’s at work right now. She’s an English teacher.”

Oh, that’s right. Clara’s occupation was teaching a bunch of brats.

Sensing that the woman was growing suspicious of him, the Doctor thanked her, hurried back downstairs, and headed in the direction of the school.

* * *

 

“Now, it may not seem like it, but Shakespeare had a much deeper meaning with this conversation between Brutus and Cassius. What do you think is the meaning of their conversation here?”

No hands, as usual. It was to be expected; Shakespeare wasn’t the easiest to understand.

“Come on, think about it! Think about how Brutus felt about Cassius’ plan initially, about how-“

The bell cut her off, and Clara could hear the relieved sighs and mutters of the students as they gathered their things. She tried not to be offended, but it wasn’t exactly an easy topic. She can remember despising the Shakespeare units she did when she was in school.

She’s just about to turn around to start cleaning the chalkboard, but the office secretary’s voice interrupts her.

“Miss Oswald? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh really? Who is it?” she mutters absently as she begins wiping at the chalkboard with the eraser. “ _It’s probably Danny wanting to surprise me._ ” she thinks.

“Some man calling himself the Doctor.” the secretary says, and Clara is definitely caught off guard by that. A man calling himself the _Doctor?_

_What kind of title is that?_

But regardless, the word _does_ strike some sort of chord within her. Alarm bells go off and red flags wave, but she can’t fathom why. She’s never met a man called the Doctor in her life. Curiosity wins over her in the end, so she allows the secretary to let him in.

An older man dressed in a black sweater and dark blue trousers enters the room, an intense expression on his face. His thick silver eyebrows are the first thing she notices, and she finds that they’re rather intimidating.

His eyes narrow and seem to focus in on her. His expression _is_ intense, but it’s also gentle. He looks at her like he knows her, and it’s the strangest thing, because a small part of her feels like she knows him too.

“Clara.” he says, and she immediately picks up on the thick Scottish accent. He must not be from around here. “I know I have a different face now, but it’s me. I’m the Doctor.”

A confused pout spreads across her lips as her brows furrow in confusion. “The Doctor? That’s it, just the Doctor? Doctor _who?"_

His eyes widen.

_No._

_Not possible._

_She couldn’t have-_

“And another thing,” Clara says, seemingly unaware of his growing panic, “how do you know my name? You acted like you knew me just now, but I don’t recall ever having met you.”

He takes a few steps closer to her. “Clara,” he says again, his voice lowering, “it’s me. The Doctor. Don’t tell me you’ve…”

Clara takes a step back. “Don’t tell you I’ve what?”

“Oh no, you have.” he says, and he takes a step back too. “You’ve forgotten me, Clara Oswald. Forgotten all about me.”

She notices the students waiting outside her classroom door and starts to panic herself; what would they think if they saw her talking to some strange man in between classes?

“Look, _Doctor,_ I think you’re a bit confused. I think you have the wrong Clara Oswald. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to run.”

“No, I definitely have the right one, I know it’s you. Look, if you’ll just come with me, we can figure this out-“

Clara frowns; he was starting to irritate her now. Why should she have to deal with this clearly confused loon? And did he really think she was stupid enough to follow a man she had never met just because he claims to know her? “Like hell I’m coming with you, I’ve got a class to attend to!”

The strange man called the Doctor steals a quick glance back at the waiting children. “Right… you’ve got… a class… you’re a teacher.”

Without another word, he exits the classroom. The students start filing in, and Clara finds that it’s hard for her to focus on the lesson.

Perhaps Shakespeare isn’t all that interesting after all.

* * *

 

_How?_ How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t been gone for that long, a week at most. She couldn’t have forgotten him in a week.

And when he regenerated, she was with him, right? Of course she was. He remembers talking to her, and then… then…

Nothing. He doesn’t remember either.

It’s an insignificant portion of time; a few moments that really shouldn’t matter. But he was the Doctor, and he was a time traveler. Every moment mattered, no matter how unimportant it may seem. It’s the moment that Clara Oswald lost her memory, and he doesn’t remember how she lost it. That information would have been vital in figuring out how to get her memory back.

Damn it all.

There was always one option; an option that the Doctor loathed and knew he would never bother to consider. He could easily let her go. He could let Clara Oswald live out the rest of her days in peace. He could let her find love and have a family and live a normal human life. But the selfish part of him demanded that he get her memory back. She was still his Impossible Girl, and he wanted her back.

The Doctor and Clara, in the TARDIS. Together. That’s how it’s been, and that’s how it should always be.

He couldn’t imagine letting her live out a normal life, not after she’s seen so much. She’s gone far beyond normality. He’s shown her so many worlds; she’s saved so many lives. She deserves to remember that. She needs to know how wonderful she truly is. He can’t let her live without that knowledge.

But, it would be harder than it seemed, because if there was one word to perfectly sum up Clara Oswin Oswald, it was “stubborn”. Clara Oswald was the most stubborn woman in existence, and convincing her that they’ve met before was going to be like talking to a brick wall. If he intends to trigger her memory somehow, he has to get close.

And to do that, he’ll have to go undercover for a little while.

_Damn it._

* * *

 

She’s home earlier than usual that night; all of the work she did the previous night had really helped her get ahead on grading papers. For once, she was actually able to leave on time. And Danny, being the charmer that he is, was waiting for her at her apartment, dressed nicely with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Miss Oswald,” he’d said, an enchanting grin on his face, “would you accompany me on a date tonight?”

As flattered as she is, Clara has to admit, she’s never really been a huge flower person. She’s always preferred chocolates and teddy bears over flowers (she can never keep them alive long enough; they always end up dying). But it was the thought that counts. She could tell that Danny put a lot of effort into impressing her, and that’s all that really mattered.

Grinning, she took the bouquet from his hand and kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.”

“Well then, you’ll find the dress I’ve picked out for you in your room. I’m sure you’ll look great.”

She’s a bit annoyed that Danny picked out a dress for her, but she knew that that was just the desire for complete control that she’d always had. She always denied being a control freak, but she could admit, only to herself, that she may have a bit of a problem. Maybe. And to make matters worse, the dress is _ugly._ In fact, in any other scenario, she wouldn’t be caught _dead_ in this dress. But, once again, it’s the thought that counts. Danny was being nice. After all, no other guys had really gone to such lengths for her before.

The dress did fit, but it hugged her body awkwardly and made her look rather shapeless. She admired herself in the mirror and cringed, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of the horrid thing and throw it in the trash where it belonged. But this was important to both Danny and to her. Besides, it was only one night. After tonight, it could sit in the closet forever and she’d never have to look at it again.

She would just have to make a mental note to always accompany Danny when he went shopping, because apparently, he had terrible taste.

When she walked back into the living room, she watched with amusement as Danny’s eyes lit up and drank in her appearance.

“You look beautiful.” he said, and she felt her cheeks flush. She’d wanted to say “In this ugly thing?”, but for obvious reasons, refrained from doing so.

“I know.” she said with a small smirk. “Now where are we going?”

“I hope you’re feeling Italian, because that new restaurant across from your apartment complex just opened up and we have reservations.” Danny extended his arm to her, and Clara happily linked her arm with his own.

Well, apparently Danny had a terrible taste in food too, because the restaurant, while gorgeous and seemingly very fancy, had awful food. Even he admitted that the food could have been better. But, the wine was good, and they still had that.

“So,” Danny says as he sets down his wine glass, “rumor has it that some guy was looking for you today.”

“Oh, you mean the loon that called himself the Doctor? How did that become a rumor?” Clara queries, recalling the man that had intruded in her classroom earlier today.

“Yeah, him. The guy with the eyebrows. A lot of students saw him walking through the hallways, asking around for Clara Oswald. Rumors have been going around about who he could be.”

Clara’s eyes go wide before she buries her reddening face in her hands. “Oh my God, what are they saying?”

Danny shrugs. “No idea.”

Sighing, Clara removes her hands from her face. She needed to explain the situation _properly_ so Danny didn’t get the wrong idea. “He was crazy, I think, or maybe he had me confused with someone else. Either way, he came into my classroom claiming to know me. He seemed rather disheartened when he discovered that I was not the Clara Oswald he was looking for.” She pauses to take a sip of her wine. “Think he’ll be back?”

Danny shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably not. Poor guy probably had dementia or something; he _was_ an older man.”

“Oh come on, he wasn’t _that_ old.” Clara argues playfully. “Cut the guy some slack, maybe it’s really important to him that he finds Clara Oswald.”

“Well,” Danny says, taking her hand, “you’re probably not the Clara Oswald he’s looking for."

Clara doesn’t say anything to that; she doesn’t think she needs to either. But she finds that those words cause her slight discomfort, and she can’t, for the life of her, figure out why.


	2. Chapter 2

Friday mornings are the worst. They really, really are. Especially when you have to get up at 5:30 in the morning.

When the alarm goes off, Clara stumbles out of bed, slapping the top of it repeatedly until it stops chirping. She slips into her robe and slippers and groggily walks into the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee. This is her favorite part of every morning. After the coffee finishes brewing, she takes it, opens the sliding doors to her balcony, and watches the sunrise. It’s not a great view; there are too many cars and buildings in the way for her to really enjoy it. But every day she sees the sun rise and bring light to a new day, and something about seeing that makes her happy. She’s developed a strange appreciation for things like that lately.

After she finishes her coffee, she checks her phone and panics; she should’ve left ten minutes ago! Quickly she throws on some clothes, grabs her purse and heads out the door.

She quickly does her makeup in the car after she arrives; after all, she wouldn’t want to _expose_ anyone to the horror of what her face looks like without any makeup. (She seemed to lack the whole “natural beauty” thing) She smoothed out her poorly brushed hair before stepping out of her car and scurrying across the parking lot alongside the other children that were just arriving.

She hurries into the staff room to prepare today’s lessons, and surprisingly enough when she walks into the room, her colleagues appear to be expecting her.

“Clara, we’re glad you’re here! There’s someone who wants to see you.”

Clara felt something akin to dread creeping up her spine, and she felt that dread drop into her stomach and freeze when she saw the loon from a couple days ago step out from behind the other table, grinning in a gentlemanly manner.

Clara groans, realizing that the room was full of her co-workers, and she needed to talk to this man _alone._

“Um, excuse me, but could you all give me a minute to speak to him in private? It’s a, um, _personal matter_ that I have to settle with him.” she says, glaring daggers at the man.

She could hear a few of them giggling and whispering under their breaths, but they cleared out of the room nonetheless, and she can’t help but wonder what was being said about her. Probably not anything good.

Before Clara can speak, the man called the Doctor offers her a cup of coffee. “I brought you some coffee; figured you could use it. Mornings are tough.”

Clara opened her mouth to decline and state that she had already had coffee, but instead found herself accepting it anyway. It almost felt rude not to.

She then remembered her purpose and took a seat at the conference table, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Sit.”

He obeys and sits in the seat she gestured to, folding his hands neatly and resting them on the table. He’s wearing a suit today, which is oddly different from the sweater she saw him in the first time they met. Before the Doctor can say anything, the words start tumbling out of her mouth. “Who the hell are you and why are you here again?”

He sighs, appearing to be just as frustrated as she was. “Look, I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot. I prefer to be called the Doctor, but my real name is John Smith.”

“John Smith.” she says, just to try out the way it sounds. “What a generic name. Guess that’s why you like being called the Doctor. Makes you sound fancy.”

He chuckles. “You could say that. Anyway, about Wednesday… I was looking for an old friend of mine; she just so happens to have the same name as you. I was asking around, and someone told me I could find you here. But I realize now that you’re not her, so… sorry. I know I must have sounded like a loon.”

“You did.” she replies with a giggle. “I thought you were absolutely crazy!”

He laughs genuinely, but she can see a hint of something else on his face; something she can’t identify. He then examines his surroundings as if to check if there were any other people present before leaning in close to her. “Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Miss Oswald- I am. I’m a madman.”

She folds her arms over her chest in amusement. “You are, are you? Interesting, I suppose all of us are a little crazy in some ways though, aren’t we?”

His eyes flash with something akin to recognition. But he merely smiles and nods. “Indeed.” His smile drops almost completely, his eyes slowly falling to his hands that no longer remained folded on the table. “Anyway, I only came to apologize. Sorry for taking up your time.” He rises to his feet, chair sliding out from underneath him.

She feels a pang of guilt rising in her chest; the man really had been honestly confused and she was cross with him. “No, it’s fine, really. Not a big deal.”

He nods curtly and she almost lets him walk out; nothing more really needs to be said, does it? But something inside her drives her to open her mouth, to say something more, whether it be blind curiosity or a special interest that she took in him.

“Mr. Smith?”

He pauses, his hand hovering just above the door handle. “Yes?”

“Let me know when you find your Clara Oswald, okay?”

He stares, eyes wide, before nodding and twisting the door handle. “Believe me, you’ll be the first to know.”

* * *

 

John Smith. He hated that name- no, he _loathed_ it. Not only did it bring up bad memories, but it was boring, bland, and didn’t make him sound very impressive like “the Doctor” did. When he was forced to use the name due to certain circumstances, he found that the name made him _feel_ just as boring and lame as it actually was.

Even now, he can’t figure out why he introduced himself to her this way, why he acted so human. Perhaps it’s second nature to him now, to be human. That was the thing about humans; they had a funny way of getting into your head; changing the way you think. He could have easily dragged her into the TARDIS, and that alone should be enough to trigger the memory. He could imagine seeing her wonder all over again, her large brown eyes taking in the sight of the ship she knew all too well but seemed to forget due to, well… _something._ But there was the small chance that the sight of the TARDIS wouldn’t be enough, that she would demand what he was and how he possessed a ship like this. She would definitely be very, _very_ cross with him for dragging her to his alien spaceship and demanding her to regain her supposed lost memory. He’s just regenerated after all; he’d prefer not to get slapped into the next one. He would also prefer not to have the cops called; he was not looking to get arrested. Sure, he could get out easily, human prison cells were weak and easy to slip out of, but it was definitely not how he would like to spend his afternoon.

So this was how it was going to have to be for a while. He would have to use this persona of John Smith, no matter how much he despised it. While he regained Clara’s trust and friendship, in the meantime he would try to figure out what took her memory and how he could return it. Yeah. Sounds good. After all, he knew that Clara definitely still trusted him, even if she doesn’t remember it. All he had to do was awaken it. But, judging by how fast Clara seemed to be moving on, it almost felt like it was too late and he hadn’t even started yet. She was a teacher, she had a stable job. And although he wasn’t certain, he suspects that she’s got a boyfriend now too; he saw a handsome young man walking through the halls with her later on that day (admittedly, he had stuck around for the rest of the day to… well, he didn’t really have a reason. But did it matter? Regardless of if she remembers him or not, he still has a duty of care).

But oh well, that doesn’t really matter. Job or no job, boyfriend or no boyfriend, Clara was still his Impossible Girl, and he was going to make sure she got her memory back.

There was also another problem on his hands; he was stuck.

Well, not really, he could easily get inside the TARDIS and leave if he wanted to. But, if he intended for this plan to be successful, he would have to stay here for at least a few weeks. If he left, he’s not certain that he’ll come back in time. The TARDIS wasn’t always that great with accuracy.

He sighed. Looks like there were long nights lying awake in the TARDIS in his future.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me for a little while, and we’re not going anywhere, so get comfortable.” He says as he strolls into the TARDIS. He hears the ship make a noise that sounded like approval. She would probably spend the time updating herself, which was good. The TARDIS needed a bit of an upgrade.

He was already dreading these next few weeks (possibly longer). When he was not with Clara, most of his time would be spent here, tinkering with the TARDIS or finding _something_ to do on it. His ship was always full of surprises. And Clara, how could he continue to keep an eye on her without it being considered stalking? Obviously he couldn’t just watch her while she was teaching; it would definitely be rather creepy. It would also be somewhat difficult, especially since he wasn’t an employee-

Oh.

_Damn it._

* * *

 

She’s over at Danny’s apartment today, listening to him ramble on about the perfect date he had planned for the weekend.

“I was thinking we could go on a picnic.” he suggested. “There’s a spot in the park under some old oak trees that’s usually not too crowded.”

Yeah, picnics. She liked picnics.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

She didn’t know why, but something was off about her. For some reason, things felt odd, different. Like something was terribly wrong and she was just pretending to be blissfully unaware.

“Clara? What’s the matter?”

“Danny, do you… does something feel… different here?”

He seems to ponder the question for a moment. “Well, it is a bit chillier in here now that you mention it-“

“No, I mean… does it… _feel different?_ I don’t know why, but I just… I feel like something’s _wrong.”_

He smiles and takes her hand, stroking the back of it in a comforting gesture. “Clara, what could possibly be wrong? Things are going perfect for you. And even if they aren’t, I know you’ll find a way to get things right again. Because you’re Clara, and that’s what you do.”

She laces her fingers with his. “I know. I know nothing’s wrong, but I just- I _feel it,_ it’s in the air, you know? Like something’s going on that should really _not be going on._ ”

Danny frowns, pursing his lips, attempting to understand her. She always had been that way to him, difficult to interpret. She doesn’t blame him if he thinks she’s crazy. 

At the word “crazy”, her mind recalls the conversation she’d had with the loon with impressive eyebrows- er, John Smith, in the staff room earlier that day.

_“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Miss Oswald- I am. I’m a madman.”_

_“You are, are you? Interesting, I suppose all of us are a little crazy in some ways though, aren’t we?”_

Danny suddenly interrupts her reverie. “Well, whatever it is, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You stress over the smallest things. We’ll go on our date tomorrow, and you’ll forget all about it.”

She smiles, nodding gently before resting her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. Alright.”

* * *

 

Saturday comes and the Doctor finds himself wandering through the local park. He’s always liked parks; not necessarily the little ones running around all over them, but the nature that usually surrounded them. So full of earthly life; containing thousands of species all coexisting in one area, one small little ecosystem. He’s got the TARDIS parked there too today; he wanted her to feel some of the sunlight while she repaired herself. It was a gorgeous day, after all.

So far, his plan to “woo Clara Oswald” wasn’t going anywhere (he wouldn’t necessarily refer to it as “wooing”, it wasn’t like he was courting her. But it was the first word that came to mind when he thought of what he was actually doing and what his plans really consisted of). He had no idea what to say to her; what excuses could he possibly come up with for spending time with her? It was going to be especially difficult if his suspicions about her having a boyfriend were true. He would almost certainly get the wrong idea.

That was another funny thing about humans; always assuming and jumping to conclusions.

And he hadn’t even thought of the consequences. When Clara got her memory back (not if, _when)_ , what would she think of the Doctor lying to her and pulling her away from a normal, happy life? She would definitely not be too happy. Maybe she would choose to never travel with him again.

Even then, he still thought it was worth the risk. It was better that she knew. Or perhaps that was just the selfish part of him talking.

The Doctor finds an empty bench and gladly takes a seat; his legs had been aching a bit from a long walk. He leans back against the bench with the intent to rest and to possibly take a short nap, but a familiar voice snaps him out of his sudden exhaustion. He hears the owner of the voice giggle, and no one but Clara Oswin Oswald had a laugh like that; he’d recognize it anywhere.

Curious as to who else could make her laugh but him, he lets his eyes linger over to a small patch of grass shaded by oak trees. And on that small patch of grass, there’s a red blanket and a picnic basket, and what could be none other than a loving couple. That’s what it appeared to be, anyway. There was Clara, _his_ Clara, smiling and talking enthusiastically to that same young man he saw on Friday. And judging by how close they were, there was no doubt in his mind that the man was her boyfriend.

He sighs. Great, now he had a _boyfriend_ to deal with as well. This was just getting more and more domestic. If her boyfriend was with her all the time, then there’d be no way to catch her alone (it sounded so inappropriate; saying it like that in his head. He kept having to remind himself that this mission was not to court Clara, but to help her). He was glad they didn’t live together, that would make his situation ten times harder than it already was. So how could he pull this off?

Oh well, he was the Doctor. He’d think of something.

But perhaps not right now, because he was tired and wasn’t much in the mood for thinking. Besides, he should never try to think of a plan when he’s exhausted. He learned that the hard way.

He’s just about to head back to the TARDIS to get some proper rest, but a familiar feminine voice stops him dead in his tracks.

“Oi, old man, are you following me or something?”

He pauses and turns, and is mildly surprised to find Clara Oswin Oswald no more than a few feet behind him, hands on her tiny hips (actually, she was just tiny in general, but he had learned not to tell her that). She didn’t appear to actually be angry with him, just amused.

He shrugs. “Nope, just passing through, and you happened to be here.”

She grins and takes a few steps forward, folding her arms over her chest. “Passing through, huh? I’m guessing you don’t live here then?”

He shakes his head. “You could say I’m more of a traveler.”

Clara’s head tilts upward in interest. “Traveler, huh? Interesting. Did you travel with her?”

“With who?”

“Your Clara, the one you’re looking for.”

He almost chuckles at how blatantly unaware she is. He opens his mouth to formulate a response, but finds himself asking a different question entirely instead. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He doesn’t know why he asks it, but a part of him felt as though he needed a distraction.

“You can’t answer a question with a question.” she points out.

“Sure I can.”

“And why’s that?”

“…I’m the Doctor.”

“Good for you. Still doesn’t make you sound impressive, _John._ ” she teases. “But, if you must know, he went to the car to get more sodas- wait, how did you know he was my boyfriend?”

He raises a brow. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? He was rather close to you.” He watches as her face flushes. It’s kind of adorable; not that he would ever tell her that.

“Are we really that obvious?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

One of her small smiles graces her features; it was one of those smiles that he could remember clearly from when they traveled together. “Right. Well, guess I’d better get back to him then. I suppose we have to work on our PDA, since it’s _so obvious_.”

“Yeah, you do that, Miss Oswald.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around, _Doctor?_ ”

He nods. “Yeah. You will.”

* * *

 

She awakens about a half an hour early, which is definitely strange since she didn’t get to bed until late last night. But she finds that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t get back to sleep. She goes about her routine just like she would any other morning, but after she was finished, she had a few extra minutes to spare. She considers having a coffee here but, well… wasn’t that new breakfast place down the street open?

With her mind made up, Clara gathered her things and hurried out the door, relieved that she wasn’t in a hurry for once. It _was_ a rather nice change.

After getting a coffee and a bagel, she makes it to work right on time, which is honestly a relief because she doesn’t think she can afford to be late again. She hurries across the parking lot, coffee in hand, and just as she is about to open the doors to head inside, something, or rather someone, familiar catches her attention. Slowly, she walks back down the steps to get a better look at who it was, and as fate would have it, it was that damned doctor again, standing across the parking lot in a janitor’s suit, soaking wet from the rain.

She almost runs down the steps, but after a quick glance at the clock, realizes that she can’t afford to go see him, not now. Her only viable option was during her lunch break. It made her heart ache to see him standing almost forlornly in the rain, and staring at her with something in his eyes that looked much like longing.

Longing, and a hint of something else.

She broke their eye contact by looking down at the ground, and when she looked up again he appeared to have done the same, his head still aimed towards the ground in an almost shy manner. While breaking herself out of the trance she seemed to have fallen in, she briskly walked inside before she found herself walking towards him.

She was drawn to him, and she despised it and was intrigued by it all at the same time.

A bitter voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she was not his Clara Oswald; that he was still on his search for the right one, the Clara Oswald that he knew and had memories with. She was the wrong one. The wrong Clara. Yet he was still here, almost like he was waiting for her to _become_ the right one.

No, he would leave. After all, everyone leaves in the end. It was only a matter of time before he did too.


	3. Chapter 3

The day was going by agonizingly slow, so when lunch time finally rolled around, Clara was relieved to not only have lunch (she was starving) but question John Smith. He had claimed to not be following her. Yeah right.

Her first thought is to go to the janitor’s room, thinking that since it was around the time for the staff to be on lunch break, but something tells her that he’s probably not there. She can’t quite explain the feeling, but it leads her to walk back outside and, not surprisingly, he’s still there, fiddling with the lawnmower.

Smirking, she saunters over to where he was working diligently with the lawnmower. “You didn’t tell me you were a janitor.” she says as she leans over his shoulder to observe him.

He shrugs, continuing absently with his work. “Didn’t think it was important.”

“Not really, but you said that you _weren’t_ following me, and yet here we are. Meeting again. I know you never worked here before we met.”

He stops briefly to turn and look at her. “What? You think I’m stalking you or something?”

“Are you?”

“Nope. Our encounters have been purely coincidental.”

“Coincidental? John, please. You didn’t get this job until you met me. Face it; you got this job just so you could see me.”

“Oh, she’s clever. Somebody give the girl a medal.” With that, he returns to tinkering with the lawnmower, seemingly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Clara however was not too fond of his apparent disinterest, and so she grabbed his shoulder to draw his attention away from the lawnmower once more. Whilst heaving a sigh of irritation, John turns to look at her, an annoyed expression on his face.

“What are you still here for?” she asks suddenly.

John blinks owlishly. “Well, I’ve got work until 5-“

“No, I mean, why are you still _here?_ In town? I thought you would’ve left after finding that I wasn’t the Clara Oswald you were looking for.”

He seems to ponder this for a moment, thick eyebrows furrowing in thought. “I don’t really know. I guess a part of me hopes that you’re the right one.”

“You told me yourself that I’m not.” she points out.

_“And maybe that’s why I haven’t left yet.”_ He wants to say. “ _I’m waiting for when you’ll realize that you are the right one.”_

She sighs. “Well then, John, I was just going to ask if you’d like to join me for lunch. You’ve been working hard all day, it’ll be my treat.”

He almost immediately opens his mouth to accept, but then remembers one rather large problem with her proposal. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay here. I wouldn’t want to interfere with you and your boyfriend.”

Clara blanched, the sharp pain of guilt stabbing her in the chest. She hadn’t even thought of Danny. “Danny wouldn’t mind, really. I’m sure he’d like to meet you.” Well, that probably wasn’t true, there’s really no reason at all for Danny to meet John, was there? But, she had already invited him, and it wasn’t as though she could ditch Danny to go have lunch with John, who she didn’t really know all that much about. After all, it was safe to consider John a friend at this point...right? Why couldn’t Danny meet one of her friends? It wasn’t like he was a controlling boyfriend, not by any means.

“Really?” he queries as she gets lost in her thoughts. “I’d beg to differ with that.”

Frustrated, Clara rolls her eyes. “Fine, then don’t. I offered you free lunch and you’re turning it down because you’re scared to meet my boyfriend.”

John rises to his feet, his expression shifting into a much more serious one. “I never said anything about being scared, trust me, your boyfriend doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. I just don’t think he’d be too fond of me.”

“You think that way a lot?”

“What?”

“Do you think everyone you meet won’t like you?”

“Not really. Just certain people.”

“Did you think that way when you met me?”

“Of course I did. A madman comes running into your classroom looking for Clara Oswald, talking about being the Doctor, clearly I didn’t make a very good first impression.”

She giggles. “Well, perhaps not, but… your second impression wasn’t too bad, and neither was your third…”

He seems to consider her offer again. “Well then in that case, I may just have to take you up on your offer.”

She looks at him expectantly, her hands clasped together behind her back. “Really? You’ll come with us?”

“Sure, why turn down free food when it’s offered?”

Clara suppresses a laugh by biting her lip. “Well come on then, you daft old man.”

He doesn’t hesitate to follow her.

* * *

Danny’s presence not only seemed to hinder the Doctor’s plan to jog Clara’s memory, but it also seemed to make the environment exceedingly awkward, more than it needed to be. There was no need for such tension to be there, was there? The man seemed to carry it with him. But, Danny seemed kind enough; he spoke with a small smile on his lips and could hold a conversation pretty well. He had a sense of humor too, and obviously, there was something that Clara saw in him that he couldn’t see and probably never would.

_Something in him that she sees._

_Just see me, Clara. See me._

He frowns, the words bouncing around in his mind. Is this jealousy? No, certainly he wasn’t _that_ petty. But what else could explain this desire for Clara to see him? To really, _really_ see him?

He didn’t like it. He needed to get rid of it, and quickly.

He opens his mouth to speak in an attempt to create some sort of distraction, but surprisingly enough, Danny beats him to it. “So, John, what brings you here?”

The Doctor chooses his next words carefully so as not to give too much of himself away. “I’m a traveler, you see. And I used to travel with a woman named Clara. Lost her somewhere along the way, and I’ve been looking for her for a while.”

“Where did you go?” Danny asks.

“All sorts of places.”

“What was she like?”

He is again careful with his next words. He hesitates to respond for a moment, fearing that either he or Clara may catch on. “Clara? Oh, Clara… I suppose the best word to describe her would be… impossible. She was everything that was impossible all packed into one person.” He rests his cheek in his hand, his eyes briefly making contact with Clara’s as he spoke. “She was a mystery, a mystery that I still don’t think I’ve completely solved. And she…” The Doctor pauses, wondering if he should say his next words or not.

Danny leans in. “And she..?”

He meets Clara’s eyes and holds her gaze. “She was my universe.”

He watches as her dark eyes go wide with adoration and mirth. She mirrors his previous action and rests her own cheek in her hand, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Surely now you understand why I want to find her.” he says to Danny, who had noticed Clara’s sudden dazed expression.

“Of course. I’d do the same for my own Clara Oswald.” he answers, and the Doctor chuckles.

He looks at his watch, and was somewhat relieved to find that this awkward lunch date was just about over. “Well, I’m going to head back. Clara, I appreciate the meal, and Danny it was wonderful meeting you.” He rises to his feet, shakes Danny’s hand one final time, and walks out the door.

“Well,” Danny says, taking a sip of his soda. “He was… interesting.”

“You can say that again.” Clara replies. “I should’ve told you he was a bit strange.”

“Just a bit?”

Clara giggles. “Okay, maybe a lot. But he’s a good guy; at least I think he is.”

“You’ve known this guy for what, two weeks?”

“Yes, but it’s weird, I feel like I’ve known him for longer.”

Danny wraps his arm around her shoulder. “What, have you got a thing for him now?”

“Shut up.” Clara says, punching his arm playfully as he leans down to kiss her.

* * *

Well, phase two of his plan wasn’t a total failure.

It hadn’t gone like he’d hoped, but he thinks that he’s made some headway. After all, Clara was comfortable enough to call him a friend and allowed him to meet Danny.

Now, to put phase three into action. But what exactly _was_ phase three? Where exactly could he go from here?

The question bounces around in his mind. _Where could he go from here?_ Even if he succeeded in restoring her memory… she had Danny. She had a life here. There was no room for an old madman with a box. It was a life that he could never have, and there was no way he would ruin it for someone else.

But that dark part of him ached for her, because without Clara Oswald, traveling in the TARDIS… it was almost pointless.

So it was decided then. He was going to make her choose. Choose, between a normal life and an abnormal one. A life where she could wake up every morning with her husband by her side. A life where she could drive her kids to school. Or she could pick the only life he had to offer. A life traveling through time and space in the TARDIS, where she is constantly in danger and she’ll never know if she’ll live to see tomorrow. It was never a choice between Danny and him, but rather, a choice between two different lives. This wasn’t some petty competition. It went far, _far_ beyond that.

No… how could he possibly do that to her? The last thing he wanted was to make her choose, but he didn’t fit into what most would consider a normal life. With him, life was most definitely abnormal. And a part of him, this strange part, felt like he knew for a fact that Clara would choose life in the TARDIS. And it tore him apart, because he wanted her so badly, but he was most certainly not what was best for her. 

He did have a duty of care, after all.

_“Is helping her get her memory back the right thing to do?”_ he asked himself, and how strange it was that the question always came down to morals. Was _this_ right to do, was _that_ right to do... 

He sighs, leaning against the console of the TARDIS, silently asking for the ship’s help, but knowing that it wouldn’t do him any good. The TARDIS was of no help in these matters.

As if on cue, the ship made a bit of a whirring sound before the Interface appeared in the form of none other than Clara Oswin Oswald.

“Clara…” the Doctor breathed, stepping away from the console.

“I am not Clara Oswald. I am the Interface.”

“Of course you’re not… but what… why are you…”

The image of Clara Oswald suddenly vanishes, and he hasn't the slightest clue why, but he's struck with a memory of one of Clara's echoes; the Victorian Clara. As she lay helplessly, taking her last breaths, she utters the words that made the Doctor certain that she was it. He had given up, and she had won him over. Drawn him in with that curious charm of hers, and captured him, pulling him back into this unrelenting cycle that he had sworn to leave after losing Amy and Rory. The mystery of the Impossible Girl that was utterly irresistible and begging to be solved.

_“Run you clever boy… and remember…”_

Those words. Those few, simple words.

_Of course!_

_“Idiot! I am a complete idiot!_ _Clara would’ve never wanted me to forget. And to let her forget me… it would hardly be fair. Even if it comes down to a choice, even if I lose her… she has to know.”_

It was time to put phase three of the plan into action. Granted, he didn’t quite know what phase three was yet, and quite frankly, this “plan” didn’t seem like much of a plan at all, but he supposed he’d figure it out along the way.

Hopefully.

* * *

He brings in lunch for her the next day. It’s not much, really, but she seems rather grateful, and later explains that she had forgotten her wallet at home and didn’t have any money on her to buy lunch.

She talks to him about everyday things; things like how her day was going or how stressful the latest assignment was to grade. Talking to her like this felt so natural that it was almost scary; he really shouldn’t be good at conversations like these. It might be different if it were anyone else. Perhaps it was just because she was Clara. She wasn’t a stranger to him. But he was to her, and that thought killed him. He didn’t want to be a stranger to her anymore.

_See me, Clara. Just see me._

“So, John,” she says as she takes another bite of her sandwich, “what job did you have before you became a janitor?”

He opens his mouth to admit to her that he truthfully wasn’t employed here, that he had only stolen a uniform just to pretend for a while. But then she would find out that he really _had_ gotten a job here just to be closer to her. He refrains and instead attempts to change the topic.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.” he points out.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh please. Now stop avoiding the question.”

He briefly panics, wondering what he could possibly tell her. But then, the answer seems to smack him right in the face. _Of course!_

“I was a doctor. I retired about a year ago and started traveling.” He hadn’t realized it when he had regenerated, but he was old enough to make it seem like he was retired.

Her eyes widen in interest. “So what made you get a job? Surely if you’re a doctor you don’t need much money.”

“It’s nice to have some extra money coming in.” he lied. He couldn’t tell her that he was faking having a job to keep an eye on her. Not only would she be furious with him for lying, but she would probably feel like he had been stalking her or something. She had almost caught him once already. She was a bit wary of him still, but hopefully he wouldn’t have to keep up this façade for much longer.

“Mmhm.” she mutters with disbelief. “I don’t buy it. Why would a doctor come out of retirement to become a janitor, and oddly enough, right after he meets me?”

He shrugs. “I did say I was looking for Clara Oswald, didn’t I?” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips.

“But it’s not me.” she points out again, shaking her head with wide, expressive eyes. “It will never be me.” she whispers quietly, and he was certain that he heard a bit of disappointment in her voice.

He hesitates to speak for a moment, leaving a heavy silence sitting intensely in the room.

“It will never be you.” he repeats, his voice hoarse. The words sting, leaving a painful ache in his chest. “Of course.” He rises to his feet, chair sliding out from underneath him.

“John, wait-“ Clara says, standing as well, reaching her hand out as if to grab hold of him.

“No, I understand. It will never be you.” He meets her eyes. “You’re not like the Clara Oswald I know. You’re not the same one I traveled with.”

She doesn’t know why, but the words leave a dull ache in her heart, an unsettling feeling of regret and dread in her stomach. She finds that she can’t respond; she doesn’t know how. He storms out the door, and even after he leaves, the tension stays.

Clara settles back into her seat, laying her head in her hands, digging her fingers into her hair. When had things become this complicated? John was just a friend; she hadn’t known him for more than a few weeks, but now after arguing with him she feels like she’s known him for much longer. He was just so damn confusing! One minute she was the _right_ Clara Oswald, and the next minute she wasn’t! And then _he_ gets upset when she points out what _he_ told her! He was constantly contradicting himself, and she was getting sick of it.

There was something he wasn’t telling her, and they needed to settle it quickly before it escalated any further.

“Hey Clara, sorry I’m late, but I brought you… lunch…” Danny's words falter when he sees her half-eaten lunch on the table and her face buried in her hands.

“Clara, what’s the matter?” he asks, immediately rushing to her side. His hand is on her back, rubbing it soothingly.

She looks up at him, her eyes watery. She merely leans into him, sniffling softly. She hadn’t meant to cry; why was she crying anyway?

“Tell me what’s wrong.” he urges, setting the paper bag containing her lunch on the table.

“It’s nothing.” she lies, and she hates lying to him. “I’m just stressed. I have a lot of work to do.”

He got the feeling that there was more to it than that, but decided against pushing her. He nods; the hand that was on her back now on her shoulder. “Well, how about this: I’ll take you out on Friday. We’ll go have a nice dinner somewhere. And this time you’ll pick, since I did such a terrible job with it last time. Think of it as a reward for all the hard work you’ve been doing.”

She sniffles again and lifts her head from the crook of his neck to meet his eyes. “That would be nice.”

He smiles and nods. “Now come on, let’s go get you cleaned up. You have to be back to work in a few minutes.”

She nods in response and he offers a hand to help her stand.

Clara honestly doesn’t know what she would do without Danny Pink.

_“Fall apart, most likely.”_

* * *

That was _not_ how things were supposed to go. Not at all.

He curses himself as he makes his way back to the TARDIS. He hated to admit it, but he was going back to sulk. Oh, how he loathed that term.

But it was the truth. Clara Oswald had turned him into this petty, lovesick fool who could only sulk in his blue box and long for the days they used to have.

Lovesick. He hated it; hated it with a passion. He wished he could stop. There were so many complications that came with loving a human, let alone Clara Oswald. She wouldn’t ever return his feelings; not that he ever had any intention to reveal them to her. But if he did, she would certainly reject him. She had a life here that she would choose over him in a heartbeat. 

Of course. He was right all along. What did it matter if he couldn’t forget Clara? It seemed that she could easily forget him.

So that was it, then. He was done. Giving up. Throwing in the towel. He was doing the very thing he had vowed not to do. But what did it matter? Clara would never remember him, and even if she did, she would choose this life over the one he could give her. Now that she’s had a taste of it, he can’t take her away from it.

He jams the key into the lock and yanks the door open, slamming it shut behind him in frustration. He briskly walks to the console, pressing several buttons and turning knobs before placing his hand on the lever that would take him away from Clara Oswald forever. He knew that he shouldn’t leave without at least a goodbye, but once again, what was the point? She probably wouldn’t even notice that he was gone, and if she did, she shouldn’t be surprised. He never stayed in one place for too long, after all.

He pulled down on the lever, expecting to hear the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing. However, there was nothing, almost as if the ship was dead. He pulls the lever again, and again, but nothing.

Dread fills his chest as he begins to fiddle with some of the knobs and switches. “Oh no, no no no, please don’t be dead. Come on, please-“

He ran a few diagnostics tests, all of which indicated that there was nothing wrong. And obviously the ship wasn’t dead; every other function seemed to be working fine. So what was the problem? Why wouldn’t she leave?

He tries the lever one more time, and once again, nothing. Sighing, he leans against the console. “What’s the matter with you today? Not feeling well?” he asks out loud, as if expecting the ship to answer him.

And in a way, she does. The ship makes a whirring noise and a few beeps before, once again, the Interface appears in the form of Clara Oswald.

The Doctor’s eyes go wide. “Oh no, we’re not doing this again-“

“Doing what?” she asks. “I am not Clara Oswald, I am the Interface.”

“Yes, thank you, I know that. Why aren’t you working right? Is something the matter? I ran a few tests and I can’t seem to figure it out.” 

“All systems are functioning.”

“Then why won’t you leave?”

The Interface doesn’t answer him. She stares at him blankly, as if it were obvious.

“Well?”

Still, no response.

The Doctor stares at her for a moment, this imitation of Clara Oswald, before his eyes go wide in realization.

“Of course!” he shouts to no one in particular. He mouths a quick “thank you” to the Interface before running back outside. Clara Oswald smiles gently before disappearing.

_“She’s refusing to leave without Clara, because she knows. Damn it, why is she always meddling in matters that have nothing to do with her?”_

Ah, the perks of having a sentient ship. Still though, it relieved him a bit that the TARDIS had warmed up to Clara a bit. She wasn’t too fond of her at first.

Now, what to do about this new predicament of his. He obviously couldn’t talk to Clara just yet. But the next time they met, he was going to tell her everything. He was tired of hiding things from her.

* * *

The week passed by rather quickly, and the Doctor had kept his distance from Clara. They didn’t eat lunch together, nor did they walk home together. Surprisingly they hadn’t managed to run into each other like they seemed to before. However, there was one thing he noticed.

She would stare at him. Whenever she could see him from her window, she would watch him. When she wasn’t teaching a class, that’s all she did. And when she was, she would often walk over to the window and seemed to be talking to her students from there. It didn’t really bother him, especially since he was guilty of the same thing.

He too had been watching her. Every day, at the end of each day, he would watch her sit at her desk and grade papers. He would grin with amusement when he saw how frustrated she would get. He would watch as she organized textbooks and folders. There was one particular day when she just looked so lovely that he had forgotten his work entirely. She stood in front of the cabinets, a gentle smile on her lips, long brown hair framing her face as she reorganized the textbooks.

It was Friday afternoon when he finally worked up the courage to talk to her again. She was collecting her things and getting ready to go home for the day when he walked into her classroom.

Thinking it was one of her students, she didn’t bother to turn around. “Did you forget something?”

“Not exactly.”

She gasps at the sound of his voice and turns around to face him. “John, what are you-“

“I just want to talk.”

She frowns. “About what?”

“About… what I said on Monday, and uh… other things. But not here. I came to ask you to dinner, so we can talk then.”

She blinks owlishly. She opens her mouth to accept, but then remembers her date with Danny. “Um, well, I can’t tonight. But… is lunch tomorrow okay?”

He nods. “Sure. Twelve o’clock?”

“Yeah. We’ll meet at the diner downtown. It’s not far from here; you pass it on your walk home.”

He quirks a brow upward. “How do you know that?”

Her cheeks flush. “Every day, when I drove home, I saw you. Walking home.”

He smiles gently. “Twelve it is then. See you tomorrow, Miss Oswald.” And with that, he’s gone.

He’s tempted to have the TARDIS travel to twelve o’clock tomorrow, but knew that that would be a major misuse of her abilities. No, he could wait. He needed to spend time figuring out what to say to her anyway.

It was without a doubt going to be a very long night indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Lunch? With John?”_

Clara frowns as she finishes applying the rest of her eyeliner. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

She can hear Danny sigh. _“Clara, look… John seems like a nice guy and all, but…"_

“But what?” Clara asks as she grabs her eye shadow.

_“This almost sounds like a date to me.”_

Clara rolls her eyes. “Danny, don’t tell me you’re jealous. It’s not like that at all, trust me.”

_“I’m not, I just worry about you, that’s all. It’s just… the way he looks at you. He looks at you like he’s known you all his life, and now he asks you out to lunch?”_

“Danny, do you really think John would be interested in me? He’s much older than I am; I doubt he would have any interest. Besides, he knows I’m taken.”

She hears him chuckle a bit. _“You’d be surprised, Clara, lots of older men go after young women.”_

“Yeah, well he’s not like that. I’d know if he was.”

_“Just… promise me you’ll be careful. And if he tries anything, call me.”_

“He won’t, I promise. John’s a friend. And we’re discussing business, nothing more.”

_“Alright. Love you.”_

“Love you too.”

The phone call ends, and Clara observes herself in the mirror. She had really outdone herself with her makeup; she hadn’t intended to do much. She had also picked a casual blue dress and a cardigan to go with it. Nothing too fancy, since this definitely was not by any means a date.

It wasn’t a total lie; she truly had to discuss business with him. But it was _personal_ business that had to be settled right away. And once it was, they could hopefully go back to being normal friends again and this entire predicament would be something they’d laugh about in the future. But for some reason, that seemed… disappointing to her. Like she was _hoping_ for something more. But what could she be hoping for? She had no reason to long for anything more; she had everything she wanted. Perfect boyfriend, a nice home, a good job- what more did she want?

A quick glance down at her watch interrupted her thoughts as she realized that she was running late. She grabbed her purse before heading out the door.

When she arrived at the diner, he was there waiting for her. He was already reading over the menu when she sat down, and before she could say anything he gestured to the menu and murmured “Decide on what you want. I’m buying and there is no arguing with me on that.”

Nodding, she picked up the menu. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Clara couldn’t take it much longer. Frustrated, she set her menu down and met his eyes when they finally looked up from his own menu.

“You invited me here to talk, so let’s talk.”

“Not until you’ve decided what you want.”

“John-“

“Look at the menu Clara, really look, and then after you order, we’ll talk.”

Muttering something inaudible under her breath, Clara read through the menu before deciding on a Greek salad.

“Have you decided?”

“Yes, now let’s-“

“May I take your order?”

Clara glares daggers at John as he smiles up at the waitress. “Fish and chips for me.” He says, handing the waitress his menu.

The waitress scribbles it on her notepad before turning her attention to Clara. “And for you ma’am?”

“Greek salad.” she says curtly, handing over her menu as well.

“Alright, your food will be ready shortly.” The waitress says before hurrying off to take other orders.

Finally, after what seems like hours of intense silence and thickening tension, John draws in a breath and leans forward. “Clara, there are some things that I haven’t told you, things that I can’t tell you, not yet. But I promise to explain everything in due time, but for now, just listen to what I have to say.”

She nods wordlessly; finding that she doesn’t really have anything to say in response.

“You are the right Clara Oswald, and you always have been, since the day we met.”

She raises her brows, her expression forming into one of shock. “The right Clara Oswald? What are you-“

“The right one.” he says. “There never was another Clara Oswald that I traveled with. The one I’ve been looking for is you. And I’ve found you.”

“You mean, all that stuff you said about traveling with this Clara-“

“It was true.”

“And the things you said about her-“

“Also true. We’ve met before, Clara, you just don’t remember it.”

She takes in a breath to steady her racing heart as she tries to process this. She and John have met. At some point in her life, they’ve met. But when? She was certain that they’ve never, ever met.

She recalls what he said about his travels with this other Clara that he seemed to remember fondly.

_“Clara? Oh, Clara… I suppose the best word to describe her would be… impossible. She was everything that was impossible all packed into one person.”_

_“She was a mystery, a mystery that I still don’t think I’ve completely solved. And she… she was my universe.”_

That couldn’t possibly be her. “John, I really think you’re mistaken-“

“No Clara, I’m not. I know that deep down you believe me; you just don’t want to because you think it’s impossible that we’ve met. But we have, I promise you that. You just have to believe me, Clara.”

Tears well up in her eyes at the sound of his voice, desperate and pleading. “I can’t-“

“Clara, please. I _need_ you to believe me. I have tried to walk away from you, to let you live a happy normal life, but I just can’t. You’re still a mystery, a mystery that I haven’t solved and I can’t walk away from that. If you believe me, then I promise you that I will explain everything.”

The silence builds. He’s looking at her with expectant eyes, his body tense as he awaits her response. The tears in her eyes are threatening to fall as she sees how desperate he is. He really needs her to believe him. It kills her to see how obvious it is on his face, how easy it is to see that he yearns for Clara Oswald. It makes her heart ache.

Finally, she whispers “Okay. One more time, I’ll believe you, John.”

He lets out a relieved sigh, a bright grin spreading across his face. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”

“But you have to promise to explain everything to me John, including how we know each other. Got that?”

“Of course. I promise.”

In that moment, their meals are set down in front of them. She’s not even really that hungry, but she’ll eat if it means avoiding any more conversation for now. That seemed to be enough.

* * *

She allowed him to walk her home. He had insisted, and it was an awfully nice thing to do.

She didn’t know when she had linked her arm with his, but it didn’t seem inappropriate for their situation. Once again, it wasn’t a date.

“Gonna start talking now, John?” she asks to break the silence.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he teases. “I told you that I’ll explain everything in due time.”

“Yeah, well I’m impatient.”

“I’ve noticed.”

She punches his arm playfully, a small chuckle escaping her lips. They walk in a comfortable silence all the way back to her apartment. It was different from the tension-filled silences that always seemed to fall between them.

She removed her arm from his when they reached the outside of her apartment complex. “Thank you. For lunch, and for starting to explain things to me.”

He nods, his expression seemingly becoming distant.

“And, also... those things you said about me, back when you met Danny… even though I don’t remember… I’m glad I meant something to you, John.”

With that statement alone, the Doctor feels the last of his self restraint slip away, and his lips are on hers before he can stop himself.

_“Of course you meant something to me. You will always mean something- no, everything to me.”_

He felt as though he had to show her, had to let her know that she meant more to him than anything. Because right now she didn’t know about the Doctor, about the TARDIS, about the things they’ve done together. She only knew John. She doesn’t know a single thing about the depths of his feelings for her, how far he would go if it meant saving her. And yet here she is, clueless and beautiful Clara Oswald, thanking him for being meaningful to him.

He'd be a liar if he tried to pretend that he hadn't thought about this. Even with his previous face, he thought about it. Thought about what it might be like to kiss Clara Oswald. She had given him a brief taste of it when her Victorian echo snogged him. And, as nice as it may have been, he didn't think that counted as an official first kiss. Not that he was an expert or anything, but a first kiss was usually mutual between both individuals. 

And now, here he was, satisfying the desire he'd had since he wore bow ties. And yet, he had a feeling he was going to regret it. 

Clara’s eyes go wide, her body freezing with shock. She’s unsure of what to think, let alone what to do. She kept telling herself that this wasn’t a date; had she read this wrong? Did John think it was a date? No, surely he couldn’t, because he knows that she’s dating Danny-

Oh God, _Danny!_

Her body seemed to tell her to continue the kiss, but she went against her “better” judgment and pushed him away, panting slightly as she stumbled backwards against the door.

“John, what the hell are you doing?!” she snaps.

He only then seems to realize what he’s done, and he seems to stumble as well. “I… Clara-“

“No, you… you know I’m… stay away from me Doctor, do you hear me?! Stay away!” She then storms upstairs, slamming the door behind her.

Damn it. He had screwed up. Again.

How had he managed to mess things up so badly? Oh, right, he told the woman that he loved that they knew each other even though she didn’t remember, begged her to believe him, and then _kissed her_ even though she’s already in a happy relationship with another man. Right. Of course.

He was brilliant, he was clever, but he was not good with the whole “emotions” thing. This regeneration seemed to be lacking in that department.

He’s about to head back to the TARDIS, but something stops him dead in his tracks. She said “Doctor”. And it wasn’t to tease him; she was genuinely calling him Doctor. Maybe it was nothing, or perhaps he had misheard, but he had had less to work with before.

_“There’s still a chance, a chance that she can remember! I just have to get her onto the TARDIS, and that should do it. She should remember then. It seems like she’s already getting some of her memory back now.”_

He turns to go back upstairs to find Clara, but then remembers what just occurred. He had just _kissed_ her; she probably wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now. Damn, he was tired of waiting. 

He would give her time again, and apologize again, and before long he would have her in the TARDIS with her memory fully restored. And hopefully, deep down, Clara still trusted him enough to let him help her.

* * *

As soon as she got to her apartment, she called Danny over without even really thinking about it. She had every intention of telling him what had happened and apologizing (and begging for forgiveness, if necessary). This wasn’t a secret that she could just hide; it was important that he knew. 

That irrational fear of “what if he leaves” creeps into the back of her mind and stops her thought process dead in its tracks. If she tells him and he leaves… she couldn’t handle that. She would have no one.

She hears John’s voice in her head. _“She was my universe.”_

Yeah, right. She was his universe. The guy really was crazy all along, and he really had been stalking her. And he’d _kissed_ her!

_“What a creep.”_

But she couldn’t shift the blame entirely on him, because if she remembered correctly, it wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy the kiss. In fact, if she hadn’t remembered Danny when she did, it would’ve gone on much longer. But it seemed that whenever John was around, thoughts of Danny seemed to disappear entirely, and she wasn’t sure if she liked that feeling or not.

Just when he attempts to tell her the truth, he confuses her even more. But what did it matter? The guy was crazy. She should just let him be. He’d move on eventually, and if not, well then she’d have to take matters into her own hands.

Sighing, she leans against the door. She could use a drink right about now; maybe she should ask Danny to grab something (quite frankly, she didn't care what it was) on his way here. She pondered on the thought for a few moments, and before long Danny was knocking on the door.

She collected her thoughts and took in a deep breath. This was it. She would tell him, and hopefully he would understand.

She pulled open the door to see her concerned boyfriend, soaking wet from the rain that seemed to have started falling since she had gotten home. “Clara, I came as soon as I could. Are you alright? Did something happen? Did John-“

“No, I’m okay. Come in, you’re soaked.” she ushered him inside, closing the door after him. She watched him shed his sopping wet coat and slip out of his shoes that were also in the same state. Her heart was still racing and reeling, and although she’d never admit it, she knew it was from that kiss.

_Damn him._

She needed to calm herself down if she ever hoped to tell him. This wasn’t a secret she could just keep. As her boyfriend, he had a right to know, and a right to dump her if he wished. Which would most likely be the outcome of this situation.

Drawing in another deep breath, Clara seated herself on the couch and motioned for Danny to do the same. A confused look crossed his face as he sat down next to her. “Clara, you have to tell me what’s wrong. You’re not acting right.”

“I…” She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “This isn’t easy for me to say…”

Danny’s eyes go wide. “Oh God, you’re not pr-“

Frantically, she shakes her head. “No! No, of course not. It’s…” She finds that her words are failing her. Why can’t she say it? She tries to force them out, but they won’t come. And as she stares into the concerned brown eyes of Danny Pink, she finds that she can’t do it. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she quite literally _couldn’t._

“Nothing.” she murmurs. “It’s nothing.”

“Clara-“

She silences him by pressing her lips to his own. But instead of reacting like she would expect, Danny’s hands move to her shoulders, gently pushing her away.

“Clara, please.” he says. “Tell me.”

Once again, she refuses. She kisses him again. He’s hesitant to react at first, but seems to realize that she was insistent on this, and finally gives in. Clara smiles against his lips, of course. This was what she needed. Danny.

As she loses herself in him, however, it doesn’t feel like enough to dull the ache in her chest. And it’s not fair to Danny, to use him like this to get rid of the anguish she was feeling. Sure, he was her boyfriend, but it just didn’t seem right. She couldn’t do this, not while she had an untold secret on her lips and a dormant desire for another man. Could she call it mere desire? It was more, so much more than that. There was something about John that screamed familiarity and home to her, and that made his presence comforting. He was hiding a secret, a huge secret, and believed them to have met before. But she’s certain that if she ever met John before, she would have recognized him when he ran into her classroom. John’s not the kind of person you can just forget.

Not even Danny Pink could make her forget John, or her strange feelings that stirred when he was near. Danny Pink, her boyfriend, the man that she was certain she was going to marry before she met John.

_Damn him._

Just as Danny’s hands wander up the back of her shirt, Clara separates from him, gently placing her hands on his arms to stop him. He immediately pulls back, his expression seemingly asking what the matter was.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” she says, her voice hoarse.

“Hey, it’s alright, you know I’d never pressure you.”

“I’m sorry Danny, I really am.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong-“

“I did, Danny, I did-“

“Clara, please, you’re scaring me-“

And with that, the words start spilling out of her, the words she knew would hurt him deeply. “Something did happen with John today.”

His eyes darken. “What happened? What did he do to you Clara?”

“He didn’t hurt me.” she replies, and she’s shocked that she’s actually trying to _defend_ him.

“What _did_ he do then?”

Tears start to leak out of the corners of her eyes. “Danny, I’m so sorry, he kissed me. It was out of nowhere, really, and I… I pushed him away but I…” Her sobs overtake her, and Danny, still processing the information, lets her cry on his shoulder. She cries for a good five minutes, and Danny is silent during that time, almost as if he was deciding whether to be angry at her or John or both of them.

“Danny?” she finally whispers.

“…It’s alright, Clara.” he replies. “If you say that… that he’s the one that kissed you and you pushed him away… I’ll believe you, because I know you wouldn’t lie to me."

“Danny, aren’t you angry?”

“A little bit, yeah. But mostly at him.” He takes her in his arms. “Don’t punish yourself, okay Clara? You apologized for what happened, and that’s all that matters.”

No, this wasn’t right. There had to be more to it than this. “Danny-“

“Hush. It’s okay.”

She couldn’t let him hold her like this, not when there was so much more to be said. He had to know that she was to blame as well. “No, I don’t think you understand. I... I liked it, Danny.”

She feels him tense. “What?”

“H-He kissed me, a-and… I liked it. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that! Because I… oh God, Danny, I love you, but he… and I… I don’t know, he’s just so confusing-“

He silences her by pulling her into his arms again. Neither of them say anything for the rest of the night. Clara spends most of the night sobbing until eventually she falls asleep, and Danny spends the night brooding, unsure of what to say or do about the predicament he now found himself in. He could never be angry at Clara, no matter how much his heart told him that he should be. But judging by her words, and how she was acting as she explained everything, she was struggling with feelings for someone else. For John.

The thought makes his chest ache.

* * *

 When she awakened the next morning, Danny was gone. She was about to call him when she noticed a note sitting on the table that looked like it had his handwriting on it. As she recalls the events of the previous night, she hurriedly picks up the note.

_Clara,_

_I went out to think. A lot happened last night, and you told me some things that I have to think about._

_But I think there are some things that you need to figure out as well. So please, take some time for yourself to get things situated._

_Call me when you’re ready to talk again._

_-Danny_

She sighs. It made sense, after all. Maybe some time apart was best. And Danny was right; there were some things she needed to figure out. The best thing for her now was time alone; time to sort out her own feelings. Now, if she could just go a whole week without bumping into John…

That was going to be quite difficult since they now worked in the same building. But she didn’t have the patience to deal with him, not now. This week would be all for herself, just to figure everything out. And then, she would confront him again. And probably slap him. Hard.

The thought brought a tiny smile to her face as she ran to the bathroom to get ready for the day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning to end the story with this chapter, but I decided to add in an epilogue, which I'll be posting tomorrow.

The week was rather lonesome, and he didn’t do very well with being alone.

He had “quit” his job as a janitor and spent the week in the TARDIS. While most of the time was spent fixing her, he did find a few things to do, discovered things that he never even knew the TARDIS had. She had her own _movie theater!_ It must have come with some of the updates she had performed on herself during their time here.

He hated staying in one place for too long, but he was, in several ways, stuck. He knew he couldn’t leave, not without Clara Oswald. The TARDIS outright refuses to take off without her on board. It was his fault; he shouldn’t have tried to complicate their relationship and take it any further. It made sense for Clara to hate him or be disgusted by him right now. In fact, right now she probably thought he was just some perverted old man. But he just needed one more chance, one more opportunity to get her into the TARDIS, to finally expose the truth to her. And then, hopefully, this mystery would be one step closer to getting solved.

Friday finally comes around again, and he can’t wait any longer. He couldn’t take another damn day alone in the TARDIS. It was now or never. This was his last chance to set things right.

Once again he catches her right as she’s about to leave, in fact, she’s just about to lock the door to her classroom when he finds her.

She’s definitely surprised to see him, and oddly enough, he’s wearing the same thing he was when they first met. He looks just like he did then; desperate, worried, and searching for something lost. 

“Clara, we need to talk.”

She narrows her eyes. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Yes you do, and even if you didn’t, I have some things I need to say to you.”

She stares at him for a few moments with narrowed, angry eyes, her lips pressed into a tight thin line, before finally she opens the door and allows him inside.

She seats herself on her desk., folding her hands and placing them in her lap. “Okay then, talk to me.”

He supposed that the best place to start would be the very moment he complicated their already damaged relationship. “I’m sorry I... well, you know. I had no place doing that, and-”

“You’re damn right you didn’t.”

“I acted without thinking and I apologize. May I continue?”

She smirks and nods.

“Clara, I meant everything I told you back at the diner. Everything I’ve said about you, I meant it. And like I said, there is no other Clara Oswald. None like you, anyway.”

Her hard stare falters a bit, exposing her softening features. “John-“

“Let me finish. We’ve had the best of times together, Clara, and I want there to be many more adventures. Just you and I, traveling together like we used to. And I know you don’t remember, and I understand that, which is why I need you to let me help you.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” she suddenly blurts, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “You’re so confusing! Apparently I don’t remember ever meeting you, and now you’re telling me that you can help me? What will it take for you to understand that we’ve never met?!”

“I know you know me. After what happened yesterday, you called me Doctor.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “…So? You're a doctor, aren't you.”

He sighs. “My name isn’t John Smith, Clara, I’m _the Doctor_.”

She rolled her eyes, a small chuckle escaping her. She turns her back to him and faces the chalkboard. “Wow, you really are crazy.”

“I can prove it to you.”

She still doesn’t turn around, forcing herself to stay focused on the chalkboard. “What?”

“If you’ll just let me show you… I can prove that we’ve met.”

“And why should I believe you?”

He places his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and face him. “Because I would never lie to you.” (Okay, perhaps that wasn’t one hundred percent true)

“You apparently lied about being John Smith.” she says.

“Well… starting now, anyway. But Clara… I would never lie about this. I’m trying to restore your memory; do you really think I’d lie?”

She purses her lips in thought, as if pondering it. She could walk away from him now, which is what her mind was screaming at her to do. Danny had been right all along, he was delusional. A sad, lonely old man searching for someone he lost so long ago.  But if that was true, then why did she feel drawn to him as well? Why did she feel this longing for him, why did he represent home? It wasn't fair, because it was almost certainly impossible, and yet... he didn't seem to care. It was like the impossible didn't bother him; in fact, it only seemed to excite him. 

_"Clara? Oh, Clara... I suppose the best word to describe her would be... impossible. She was everything that was impossible all packed into one person. She was a mystery, a mystery that I still don't think I've completely solved. And she... she was my universe."_

“…Alright.” she finally agrees. 

“You’ll… you’ll let me? Let me show you?”

She draws in a deep breath and nods firmly. “Yes. This is the last chance I’m giving you, Doctor, and if you fail to prove anything to me then I want you to leave.”  

He widens his eyes. “You… want me to _what?_ ”

She nods again. “You heard me. I… I’ve already lost one person I care about because of you, and… I can’t live with that if you’re here.”

“What are you-“

She briefly closes her eyes to prevent tears from falling. “I broke up with Danny. I was… struggling with my feelings and it wasn’t fair to him. He didn’t deserve that. It was the right thing to do though; he deserves someone better than me. So, thanks to you, here I am. This is your last chance Doctor. Prove it to me, or you leave and you don’t come back.”

He swallows hard. He’s been given many ultimatums in his lifetime, but none have been quite as terrifying as this one. That was his Clara, always strong-willed and determined even when her heart was broken. And how had it come to this? How did he end up being the one to break her heart?

He never wanted this.

“Okay. Alright. Just… just come with me.” He extends his hand towards her. Clara hesitates at first, staring at his hand with caution and uncertainty, before finally letting her hand slip into his.

* * *

“Where are we going?”

“The park.”

“And why are we going there?”

“You’ll see.”

Their hands were intertwined by the time they made it to the park entry. It wasn’t busy today, which was especially odd. As they walked to where the TARDIS stood, the Doctor took the opportunity to study Clara. She had cut her hair, her long brown locks now gone. He hadn’t noticed when he spoke to her in the classroom. And she was wearing a new expression too; one he had never seen before. He would love to be able to start studying them if he ever had the opportunity.

She catches his eyes and glares at him. “Do you mind?” she snaps in a short tone. 

He doesn’t give her a snarky response like he normally would. He leaves the question unanswered and focuses on the TARDIS that was now just a few steps in front of them.

“This is it.” he says, pulling his hand from hers.

“This is it? A blue police box?” she queries, staring at the TARDIS in confusion.

“It’s much more than it appears to be. Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

He quickly unlocks the door and steps inside, Clara hesitantly following after him. She stops immediately while he walks on, stopping when he reaches the console and turning to face her.

“Clara Oswald,” he says, a small smirk threatening to form on his lips, “welcome to the TARDIS.”

Clara’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as she takes in the sight of the console room. Her eyes roam around the room, a small gasp escaping her as she slowly walks toward the console. She runs her fingers over the various buttons and knobs and switches, amazed at the complexity of it all.

“This is…” she breathes, the words getting stuck in her throat.

“Amazing? Fantastic?” He raises an eyebrow. _“Impossible?”_

“…Smaller on the outside.” she finishes, and the Doctor grins. That was his Clara alright.

“This technology,” she says, “it’s beyond anything human, it’s-“

“Alien, yes, I know. Surprise, Clara Oswald, the TARDIS isn’t human and I’m not either. I’m a Time Lord, and the TARDIS and I come from the planet Gallifrey.”

But Clara seems too enamored with it all to speak. She resists the urge to touch all of the buttons and levers. This room, the word TARDIS, even the term ‘Time Lord’… it all sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t quite place where she’s heard them before.

Many moments pass before the Doctor whispers “Do you believe me, Clara?”

She swallows nervously, her heart pounding in her chest. “I… I don’t…”

“Clara,” he says, and the way he says it sends shivers down the back of her neck and into her spine, “please. I need you to believe in me. Because if you don’t, I have to keep my promise to you and leave, and you know better than anyone that I can’t be alone. Come on, Clara, believe me and we can fix this.” He grabs her hands as an act of desperation.

She shuts her eyes tightly, a part of her hoping that this was just some bad dream and when she opened her eyes again this would all go away.

“I…” she croaks hoarsely. “All of this looks so familiar, but I… I don’t know…”

The Doctor sharply draws in a breath. _Of course!_

“Yes! Clara, that’s good- that’s amazing! Just- sit down right here for me, okay?” He guides her to one of the seats and he sits down beside her, gently placing his hands on her cheeks

“Now I want you to concentrate on that Clara, think about it. The TARDIS, everything you’re seeing now- think about it, and think hard. I’ll take care of the rest!”

Clara nods and closes her eyes again, concentrating intensely on the TARDIS. She can almost feel this _presence,_ poking around at the edges of her mind. It hurt, in a strange sense. She shut her eyes tighter, fighting back a groan.

“Doctor, there’s something, in my head-“

“That’s me, Clara. I’ll need to establish a telepathic connection, and if I look hard enough then I can restore your repressed memories. Now relax.”

Clara nods shakily and lets out a breath. She feels the pressure in her mind dissipate. Her mind suddenly feels clear and she feels it open for him. She feels a bit woozy, but otherwise she’s calm as the Doctor pokes around in her mind. 

She suddenly feels a sharp stinging sensation overtake her body and she jerks forward. The Doctor holds her in place with one hand by grabbing her shoulder while keeping the other on her cheek, steadying her.

“Clara, hold on, I’m almost done. Just breathe, alright? Take deep breaths.”

Seconds that feel like hours pass and suddenly, something in her mind feels like it’s being broken and put back together at the same time.

Memory after memory flows through her mind. Clara slips out of his grasp as she witnesses every single moment she ever spent with the Doctor play before her. She felt like she was watching a movie about a life she didn’t know she had. She was with a young man at the time, still the Doctor but with a different face. She could then recall everything; being trapped inside the Dalek, the snowmen, the cybermen, Trenzalore- all of it.

When her mind finally settled, she slumped forward, panting, her chest heaving. The Doctor had stayed by her side the whole time, staring intently at her. “Clara?” he asks, his voice weak. “Are you..?”

“D-Doctor…” she murmurs hoarsely. “It’s you…”

He smiles. “Yes, Clara, it’s me- it’s me.” He laughs dryly and pulls her into his arms, running his fingers through her hair.

“You… You’ve changed your face.” she whispers faintly into his shoulder.

“Yes, I have Clara, but it’s still me, I promise. I will always be the Doctor, no matter what I look like.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and reluctantly pulls apart from her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

“Doctor… I’m so sorry.” she says, tears slipping down her cheeks. “For forgetting you. How did I even..?”

“I’ve yet to figure that out.” he admits. “But I swear I'll find out.”

She sniffles and rubs at her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner… and I’m sorry for threatening to make you leave… you weren’t really going to leave me were you?”

“Clara Oswald,” he says, placing his hands on her face once more, “If you had honestly told me that you didn’t want to see me again, and made me believe it, then I suppose I would have respected your wishes and left you. But I knew that deep down, you knew that I don’t do well on my own, and I knew that because of that, you wouldn’t make me leave. And I also knew that you were stricken with grief over… over Danny, so I knew that you weren’t thinking right. So, if I’m being completely truthful, then… no. I guess I wouldn’t have after all.”

“Danny…” she breathes. His name seems to bring more tears to her eyes. “Doctor, I… I have to go see him. We sort of… parted badly, I guess you could say. He deserves proper closure.”

“Clara, I’m not going to keep you from Danny. If you want him, then go to him. This time, I’m letting you decide. I don’t want you to go with me out of responsibility; I want you to go because you _want to._ I can’t offer you what Danny can; I’ve only got me and this blue box. That’s all I have. And Danny… he can give you a proper life.”

“So… you’re asking me to choose between you and Danny.”

“No. I’m asking you to choose which life you want to go back to.”

Clara rises to her feet. “Doctor, a long time ago, when we first started traveling together, I made myself a promise. I promised myself that no matter who I met, who I fell in love with… I would never forget you. And I broke that promise. But now that I remember everything… I can’t just go back to the way things were. Now that you’re here… I just can’t. I… I want to stay with you, Doctor, and I know I shouldn’t feel that way because it’s not fair to Danny but I can’t help it!”

“Clara-“

“Doctor, when I was traveling with you, I felt like I was touching the stars. Nothing else has ever made me feel like that. Not this life, that’s for sure. When I was traveling with you, I saw things that most people only _dream_ of seeing. But you did more than that, Doctor, you’ve done _so much_ more… you save people… you’ve saved _me_ in every way. And I want to be there, with you as you run across the universe and save millions of lives.”

The Doctor averts her gaze, staring at the floor beneath his feet. This human woman, his Impossible Girl, Clara Oswin Oswald- was offering her whole life to him. And he would take it, too. Take it and run with it because that’s who he was. He was the Doctor and he ran. Run, run, run, until he could go no further. “You’ll stay with me then?”

She nods as she sniffles and wipes away her tears again. “Yeah Doctor. I’ll stay with you. How could I not?”

Nodding, he rises to his feet as well. “Then, go to Danny and tell him what you need to say.”

“Right. Thank you Doctor. Oh, and one more thing…” She reaches up and presses a kiss to his cheek. “That’s for, you know, not giving up on me and all that. Even when I gave up on you.” A small smile spreads across her lips. She waves goodbye before heading out of the TARDIS doors. The Doctor watches her leave, and every part of him is fighting the urge to follow her to hear what she tells Danny. But that was none of his business. What she told Danny was meant for Danny alone. He sighs and takes a seat once more.

_“One more time, Clara Oswald… I’ll wait for you.”_

* * *

To say that Danny was surprised when she showed up at his doorstep may be a bit of an understatement- he looked absolutely shocked, like he wasn’t ever expecting to see her again.

“Clara,” he says, his voice shaky, “what are you doing here?”

“I thought we should talk.” Clara replies softly. “I think… there are some things we need to clear up.”

Nodding, Danny sidestepped to let her enter, closing the door behind him. Clara took a seat across from him on the couch.

“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got tea, coffee-“

“No thanks, I’m good.” Clara leans in, folding her hands and laying them gently on her lap, almost as if she were talking to a student. “We sort of broke up in a bad way and I didn’t want there to be any bad blood between us, so I just want to explain a few things.”

Danny nods, but doesn’t say anything more.

“When I broke up with you, you asked me if I loved the Do- _John_ and I told you no. And that… that wasn’t completely true.”

“Like I thought.”

“Right, well, the truth is, Danny… we actually did end up knowing each other. He wasn’t crazy; he was telling the truth all along. It was me who forgot. And I started to remember all the times we had together, and I just… I missed him.”

Danny nods again, biting his lip. “I just can’t understand how you could forget times like those if they were so important.”

“I don’t really know how either, John said I must’ve hit my head or something because he doesn’t really know either. But regardless, Danny, I never meant to hurt you, and I’m really sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve this.”

Danny shakes his head. “No no, Clara, I get it. You remembered him and I guess it… brought back old feelings. I get it.”

“But it’s not fair to you-“

Danny leans in closer, a small, weak smile on his lips. “I know, but it happens. Sometimes things happen and they are completely unfair. You don’t know why or how they happen, but they do, and you can only wonder. But you have to accept these things- it’s how you move on.”

“…Danny…” she breathes, mostly because she doesn’t know what else to say. How could he be so forgiving? She didn’t deserve his forgiveness.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s alright. I forgive you because you’re Clara, and because I know you’re a good person.”

Clara mirrors his smile and nods, rising to her feet. “Thank you Danny. Thank you.”

Danny does the same and pulls her into a tight embrace, holding her against him one last time. “You’re welcome. Goodbye Clara.”

His arms feel different from the Doctor’s, but it wasn’t a bad different. A part of her regrets the fact that she hadn’t noticed it until now.

When they separate, Clara smiles at him one last time.

Danny can’t help but think about how radiant her smile is as she walks out the door.

* * *

When Clara returned to the TARDIS, the Doctor seemed to have returned to normal. He was even cheerier than usual; almost abnormally so.

“You’re in a good mood.” she comments idly as she walks over to the console where he stood.

He shrugs, a bright smile lightening his features. “Can’t help it, it just seems to happen whenever you’re around.”

She grins. “Oh, quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Well, Clara Oswald, besides your presence in the TARDIS, would you care to take a guess as to why I’m in a good mood?”

“…New sonic screwdriver?”

“Nope.”

“New planet?”

“Guess again.”

“…Um…”

“Oh, come on! Nothing?!”

“…Nope.”

The Doctor sighs and practically skips over to the other side of the console. “I found out why you lost your memory. And it’s for such a simple reason! Who would’ve thought?”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Well, the TARDIS was kind enough to show me my regeneration, and well, at the time she was crashing. Then I didn’t really know how to fly her. So at some point both of us hit our heads and fell unconscious- only you lost all of your memory of traveling with me and I didn’t.”

Clara’s eyes widen in horror. “Those aren’t all the memories I lost… I forgot that my mother was dead.”

“What?”

“It’s true… a while ago, before you came back. Danny and I were talking about sending postcards for when we went on vacation, and I said that we definitely had to send one to my mother. Danny had to remind me that she was dead. And I… I forgot I was a nanny, too. I quit doing a job I didn’t even know I had.”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Clara, tell me everything you remember. What happened to you after I regenerated?”

“Well, after I fell, I woke up in the hospital. Danny was there, waiting for me. He said that a young woman and her wife took me there. And for the longest time I couldn’t remember who Danny was. It took a few days for me to remember that he was my boyfriend.”

_“That must have been Jenny and Vastra.”_ The Doctor thinks to himself. “All of this, just because we bumped our heads.”

Clara chuckles. “Yeah… kinda silly, isn’t it?”

He shrugs. “Well… doesn’t matter now. You’re back in the TARDIS, like you should be.” Smiling, the Doctor pushes a few of the buttons and turns a few of the knobs before resting his hand on the lever. “Now then, where would you like to start?”


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos! I hope you enjoyed it! ^^
> 
> (it is incredibly short, which I apologize for ^^)

She could never really tell what the time was when she was in the TARDIS; time seemed to flow differently when she was there. But right now for some reason she was exhausted and let herself believe that it was late at night.

Although the relationship between her and the TARDIS had gotten off to a rocky start, Clara was starting to think that the ship was taking a liking to her now. She had upgraded her room and provided her with an attached bathroom (including a nice shower!) and a walk-in closet. Clara found that she didn’t really have to bring much when she went with the Doctor; it was all right here. After all, the less she had to take with her, the better. She had a tendency to misplace things on the TARDIS.

As she stepped into the console room after a (quite amazing) shower, she noticed the Doctor sitting on the steps, brooding as he always seemed to be. Smiling, she sat down beside him. “What’s got you thinking like that?”

He shrugs. “I’m always thinking about something.”

“Yeah, but you’re making a face.”

“What face?”

“You look like you’re upset.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t tell me what’s on your mind.”

The Doctor sighs; he could never resist Clara Oswald, she was far too persistent for her own good. And she knew it too. “There’s still something that bothers me.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

The Doctor suddenly frowns. “Something still feels incomplete.”

“What do you mean? You got my memory back, and we figured out why I lost it in the first place. What’s missing?”

“It’s just… it’s never been this easy before. Of course I hated lying to you for all that time-“

Clara giggles. “You got a job as a janitor and called yourself John Smith all for me.”

The Doctor rolls his eyes. “Please, do you really think I actually got a job? _Me?_ I just took one of the uniforms and pretended.”

“What?! And they never noticed?!”

“Nope.”

Clara giggles again. “I can’t believe you.” She wipes a tear from her eye. “You know, it’s alright. You lied for a good reason. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it.”

“I know, but… a lot of… _other things_ happened while I was pretending to be John Smith, and well-“

“Are you referring to the kiss?”

“I was trying to be subtle about it, but yes, I am.”

Clara’s expression suddenly turns serious. “I admit, I was mad at you at the time because, well... _Danny_ , and Doctor, that was a _really_ bad time to do it, but… in a way, I’m glad you did, because it made me realize some… things.”

“Right,” the Doctor replies, clearing his throat awkwardly, “things. Of course.” He rises to his feet, adjusting the collar of his sweater. “Well, I think I’m fine now, where would you like to go?”

“Doctor…”

“Come on Clara, I’m not gonna wait forever for you to make up your mind.”

“Doctor…” Clara says again as she moves closer to him.

“If you don’t pick somewhere, I’m gonna let the TARDIS pick, and you never know where you can end up when she’s in control.”

They’re nose to nose now; Clara's expressive dark eyes boring into his own. The Doctor didn’t dare move, his body seemingly frozen in place.

“Clara…”

“Yes Doctor?”

“Don’t you dare move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

The Doctor’s lips were suddenly on hers and Clara felt like she was coming home again.

(And, the TARDIS did end up having to pick their next destination, which neither the Doctor nor Clara were happy with)


End file.
